Strange, yet wonderful
by Blonde Songbird
Summary: One year after the entire story. One morning, Erik wakes up... well... He wakes up not quite like himself. This leads to him seeing the love of his life once more, but how long will it last?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. Never have. Never will. (Sighs sadly).  
  
A/N: This idea just was a complete random thought that popped up while I was listening to POTO and studying for exams! I hope you enjoy. I'm going for originality here! -  
  
**Chapter One**

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_Erik's POV_I donned my fedora and cloak, taking a deep breath. The scent of the fading, bland aroma of the Persian tea I had fixed earlier made its way to my nose. Leaving the Opera by means of the Rue Scribe, my footsteps were the only sounds in the silent darkness that wrapped itself coldly around me. It had been a year. That year had deprived me of my angel, my cherub, my love... My Christine."Oh, Christine." A soft moan escaped my misshapen lips, the icy wind sharply biting at my mask.However, every night I had ventured to her diminutive flat, only being able to see her from a fair distance. Most nights, she sat outside, talking. Sometimes she spoke to her father... and sometime she spoke to me. Once, she had sorrowfully cried for her Angel of Music... This broke my heart, but I knew I could not answer.Pulling my fedora lower over my face, I sauntered quietly, my eyes fixed on the ground. I swallowed, my eyes darting around, assuring myself I was alone. After a few moments, I lifted my head to catch the sight of the glorious stars glowing in the black sky. The streets around me were completely barren; perhaps, this was because it was midnight. My lips curled into a small smile as I continued my stroll, passing an eerie alley. However, something callously hit my head, causing my eyes to roll backwards and my body to limply fall to the ground.When I awoke, my head was violently throbbing and I did not wish to move; but I knew I had to, for fear someone would find me. Blinking rapidly, I squinted. The luminous sun glared back at me, its rays bringing me warmth, yet also trying to blind me in the process. Where was I? Oh, yes. The alley. What happened? I attempted to sit up, but was unsuccessful. Something was wrong with me. Looking down, I took in a shaky breath as I stared in horror. Four legs? A TAIL? Quickly standing on my... four legs, I unsteadily ambled a few steps, my head dashing in every direction. Approaching a café, I weakly gaped at myself in the glass. I was a feline! A CAT! My furry, raven black body seemed incredibly smooth and glossy. My hazel eyes met my appalled gaze as my tail switched back and forth. Why in the Hell was I a bloody cat?! Then, I noticed the most ironic thing.

My face was entirely white, yet the remains of my body were black. I opened my mouth to scream, but instead a meow fled from it. Scurrying into the bustling streets, a large clock chimed. I had been lying in that alley for quite some time. It was already the afternoon.

"Move it, you little beast!" A rough voice indifferently muttered. My terrified eyes rose to see a rather plump man. His eyes were cold and cruel as his reddish hair slightly peeked out from under his top hat. Swatting his cane at me, I swiftly moved out the way, rushing through various feet and irritated orders.

As I felt a pair of hands compassionately pick me up, my immediate reaction was to use the Punjab... but then I remembered this bizarre incident. Hurriedly turning my head around, my eyes were met with the most blessed sight I had ever seen.

Christine. "Oh, you poor thing." She cooed, her cheeks flushed. Gently rubbing my head, I eased under her touch. "Here you go."

She carefully sat me down when we were a good distance away from the busy streets of Paris; but I did not budge. I did not run away. I did not wish to. Tilting her head, Christine's long golden-blonde curls playfully bounced against her shoulders."Go on." She quietly ordered. I only advanced towards her, causing her face to light up with an exceptionally wide smile. Bending down, I permitted her to scratch beneath my chin. I longed to be a human again so I could envelop her in my arms, never letting go... God knows why I was a cat.

"Are you not going to leave?" She questioned happily, scooping me up tenderly in her arms. "Well, I suppose you could come home with me..."

Her melodic voice trailed off as she made her way back to her flat. I was in utter bliss. Christine's azure eyes sparkled with such innocence and such child-like amusement that I know I would have chuckled had I been... myself. Entering her home, she lightly set me on the floor. She disappeared for a moment, only to return with a bowl of milk.

Grimacing, I had never had a particular liking for milk, but I was exceedingly thirsty. Taking a few gulps, I sat quietly in place. Christine approached me from behind, picking me up once more. Sitting on the settee, she stroked me delicately, studying my face.

"Your face..." She softly murmured. "It reminds me so much of him..." Appearing to shrug off those haunting thoughts, she wiped away the single tear that had rolled down her cheek. "What shall I call you?" She asked me contentedly, knowing I would not answer. "Hmm, what about..." Her eyes appeared to glaze over for a moment while she spoke the word inaudibly as if it were a prayer. "...Angel?" Staring down at me, her cloudy eyes seemed to clear just as a sky would clear after a thunderstorm. "Yes, Angel will do." Lifting my chin with her slender finger, she locked her eyes with mine. "Hazel eyes... I thought cats only had yellow eyes... I suppose you're a special cat then." She laughed lightly.

Lighting a small fire, she simply held me for a very long time. The atmosphere was soundless, except for her tranquil humming. I enjoyed this immensely. Meanwhile, the day had vanished, leaving the alluring night. Yawning, she stood, carrying me to her room.

"It's time to go to bed, Angel." Christine sighed, a weary smile painted on her face.

Placing me on her bed, she opened her closet, pulling out an ashen nightgown. Untying her bodice, she removed off her cerulean dress. As tempting as it was, I tore my eyes away from her, occupying my sight with other things. When I felt the bed rustle, I turned to see her slipping under the cool sheets. Affectionately grasping me, she sat me on the opposite pillow, petting me once more. As her eyes gradually shut, I sighed. Thousands of thoughts rushed through my head. Why was I cat? Damn it! This seemed utterly ridiculous and absurd. But my thoughts came to an abrupt halt. I hadn't been able to watch my angel sleep in what seemed to be an eternity.

A/N: What do y'all think? I know. I know. Odd idea. But it just came to me, and I had to write it. If you just didn't like the concept, then please don't randomly flame me. I mean, I accept criticism, but I don't particularly like cruel, insulting flames. If you don't like this, I'm sorry. But I beg all of you to R&R! 


	2. Strangulation and Weeping Angels

A/N: Terribly sorry for the delay, everyone! Summer is here, and I suppose I got lazy... (Innocent smile) Thank you to all my reviewers – cookies for all!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I own no Phantom of the Opera... but I do own this kitty version of Erik! MUAHAHAHAHA! That's a start!  
  
**Chapter 2**  
  
I awoke in complete darkness. Panic arose in me as my eyelids blinked violently, my head looking in every direction. I continued to run into some type of invisible wall... My hazel eyes glowed with confusion as I lifted my head, catching a small glimpse of light. Newborn hope stirring in me, my head reached towards that light. My black and white head poked out of a... bag. Turning my head to my left, I was relieved to permit my gaze to settle upon Christine. I was in her bag; scanning the area around me, I realized that we were in the Opera! My Opera! Beaming, my angel stared down at me, her cerulean eyes sparkling with a softness that calmed me instantly.

"Oh! You're awake, Angel." She whispered, her eyes darting around, assuring herself no one was near enough to see me. Gently pushing my head inside, she revealed her pearly white teeth through an angelic grin. "If any one sees you, I might have to put you out so, shhh..." Her melodic voice trailed off as she approached her dressing room.Grasping the doorknob, she swiftly turned it, entering her room. Quietly closing the door behind her, she tenderly removing me from the bag and placing me on the divan. She slipped off her black cloak, exposing an amethyst dress that maintained diminutive ruffles at the bottom. A smile still painted upon her face, she moved towards me, offering me a piece of an apple. Gratefully receiving it, I consumed it relatively quickly. Soon, a sharp knock on the door caused both of our heads to turn. Throwing her cloak over me, Christine dashed towards the door, only opening it a mere inch."Yes?" She inquired, evidently hiding something."Christine!" An energetic voice replied, obviously belonging to the little, jovial Meg Giry.Christine allowed a sigh of relief to escape her lips as she opened the door fully, authorizing the young dancer's entrance."Are you all right, Christine?" Meg questioned, furrowing her brows. "You seem rather jumpy.""Oh, Meg! You'll never guess what I found!" The soprano exclaimed, her voice growing louder as I could feel her advancing towards my covered body.The cloak was soon removed, light pouring down on me. A thrilled squeal escaped Meg as she merrily held me."Aw, Christine! He's adorable! What did you name him?"

(((A/N: let's pretend Meg just assumed it was a 'he', and she was right... because I don't feel like going through how they discovered he was a male... hehe. Thank you )))

"Angel." Came Christine's pensive answer as she stroked my head.And I must say that I was not at all despising these actions.Meg squeezed a bit too hard as she buried her face in my fur. Wincing, I was still in shock that I had fur."He's so cute!" She cried, her raven black hair bouncing in loose, playful curls.Finally setting me back down on the divan, Meg turned towards Christine, her blissful face suddenly transforming into an exceptionally solemn one... It almost caused me to laugh. I had never seen Little Meg so serious."Christine..." She began, taking her best friend's hands into her own."Yes, Meg?" My innocent angel responded, her content features turning into those of confusion."Raoul has been asking about you." The dancer squeezed Christine's hands, hesitating. "He still wants to marry you, but doesn't want to rush you into it... You know... since that night; but it has been how long since then, Christine?""A year." Christine replied, her voice scarce as she lowered her eyes to the floor."I'm sorry you're still upset over... him, but, some day you have to move on with your life..." Meg squeezed her hands again, compassion filling her voice. "Look, I don't want to seem as if I'm pushing you into this because I'm not... And I don't want to rush you. I just want you to be happy."Christine smiled weakly as her gaze returned to her best friend's, nodding gently. "You're right, Meg." She quietly agreed, swallowing. "Thank you.""For what?" The dancer tilted her head, her lips slowly turning upwards."For being such a great friend to me all this time."As the two girls embraced, my presence felt somewhat awkward, but to them, I was merely the adorable cat whose fate was to be squeezed to death. But my thoughts drifted to the Viscomte. He wanted to marry her? Of course, he did. Growling, I rested my head on the arm of the couch, narrowing my eyes.The door swinging open interrupted their laughter. Meg's face became extremely pale as her jade eyes widened. Chewing her lip, she was face to face with her mother."Meg Giry!" Madame Giry scolded, "You are supposed to be dancing!""I'm sorry, Mama, but I was...""No buts, Meg." Her mother cut her off, but her anger gradually disappeared as she saw me. Holding my breath, I knew Madame Giry not to be the type to strange me by hugging too tightly. "What is that?""I found him. He needed a home, and I didn't want to leave him at my flat." Christine jumped to explain.The grave ballet mistress, and former box keeper, approached me, staring down at me. "Make sure he is not seen by Carlotta or the managers." She stated, before leading her daughter out of the room."See you at rehearsal, Christine!" Meg giggled right before her mother pushed her away from the dressing room, "We're performing Faust!"Christine and my surprised expressions remained on our faces for a moderate amount of time. Never did either of us expect Madame Giry to act like that. Shrugging it off, I hopped down off the settee, advancing towards Christine.Picking me up carefully, she smiled, placing me on the settee. Rehearsal began in about half an hour. Rummaging through a dresser drawer, she took out a small, pink book with the word "Christine" written elegantly on it. Ah, her diary. Newfound curiosity building inside of me, I decided the inquisitiveness must come from being a cat. I watched intensely as she began to write. I had always wondered what she wrote in there...A knock made its way to our ears as she rose, closing the book and returning it to the drawer. Mon Dieu, she had a great amount of visitors! During the process of opening the door, she grinned, parting her lips to speak."Meg if your mother finds you..." She began, laughing lightly, but it came to an abrupt halt as the Viscomte Raoul de Chagny stood in the doorway; well, I should say Comte Raoul de Chagny, now that his brother was gone..."Oh! Raoul, I'm so sorry – I thought you were someone else." Her cheeks grew warm as she stuttered.Smiling warmly, he pressed a kiss to her hand, causing my blood to boil. "It's quite all right, Christine." He spoke, removing his hat."Do come in." Christine smiled faintly, shutting the door; however, she remembered me at the last minute."Christine, I wished to speak with you about – wait..." His sentence stopped as his eyes settled on the sight of me. "What is that?""Oh!" I could imagine Christine mentally slapping herself now. "I found him in the market place. Poor thing. Please, Raoul, don't tell anyone.""Um, you don't have to worry about me telling anyone, my dear." He assured her, ambling towards me. "He is rather... cute."A low growl escaped my throat as the Comte reached to pet me. Rapidly withdrawing his hand, he took a step back.Furrowing her brow, Christine came towards me, picking me up. "That's so odd. He hasn't growled at anyone yet. I'm terribly sorry, Raoul.""Ah, it's quite all right." He replied, stealing a nervous glance at me.I smirked, remembering how he shot that night, believing it to be a cat after his brother convinced him so. Silently laughing, a smirk remained on my furry, white face._Shooting poor, defenseless kittens... Tsk, tsk! Shame on you, Chagny!_ I silently reprimanded him. _He'd probably shoot me as well, if it weren't for Christine's presence_. I mused, thoughts rustling throughout my head... I do have claws..."Perhaps, I'll talk to you another time. After rehearsal?" Raoul suggested, his eyes comfortingly glowing, locked on Christine."Yes, that works, I suppose." She answered quietly.Kissing her hand again, the boy exited the room, tipping his hat to her. "Au revoir, mon cherie.""Au revoir..." Christine replied, chewing on her lip, her arms crossed as she watched the door close. Her gaze turned to the cold mirror, her bottom lip trembling. "I know what he is going to ask me... Oh, Erik... what do I do?"A single tear journeyed down her rosy cheek as she softly wept, taking a seat on the divan once more. Vigilantly making my way towards her, I curled up against her, feeling her hand stroke my body. I desperately wished to be a man again... to envelop her in my arms again. But this time, I would never let go. Irritated, I still had to discover why I was a bloody cat. It made no sense! Lifting my head to see her tear-streaked face, my thoughts softened. What was I going to do?Damn that insignificant boy. _Damn him._

A/N: R&R please!


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